[Ron Smith]

A few years ago, we were heading to the coast with some close friends. As we entered the little mill town of Mapleton, the "girls" saw an estate sale sign. So we diverted to the source.

Two ancient ladies were selling off their deceased brother's belongings. All of it appeared to be from the 19th century. Antques of every kind, including a table full of rifles. Upon inspection, it was a collection of mostly Winchesters, '92s, '94s, '86s with a few .22s. Not one of them was priced above $300.

My friend and I went into overdrive. I tried to get the check book from the "chainsaw" (not really, but that's what I was thinking) , but she wouldn't allow it.

After we arrived at our motel and an hour or so of shameless begging, she finally gave in. We broke a couple of land speed records covering the 30 miles back to the sale, only to watch a guy loading everyone of them into a van.

I've never forgotten that depressing weekend...